The Homestuck Games
by LionessOfTrebond
Summary: Trolls and kids fight to the death, but only one can win. Hunger Games and Homestuck crossover.
1. Chapter 1

You wake up in a cold sweat. Your lusus, concerned, scuttles over to you on his little crab legs to make sure you're okay. You are glad he is here to comfort you, even though you would never admit it. Your nightmare haunts you as you recall the horror from which you have just awoken. _A troll is chained upright against a slab of stone, bright red blood streaming from many gashes all over his body. A huge mob yells at the pitiful figure, taunting him in his misery. A highblood stands nearby and reads out a verdict, while another troll levels his bow at the prisoner, ready to carry out the sentence. As the executioner pulls back the arrow, the chains around the wrists of the bleeding troll start to glow red hot, their terrible image burning itself into your retinas. He shouts a word- The arrow flies free- And- _

And that's when you woke up.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You live on Alternia in District 10, the region furthest from the Capitol. Your loyal lusus has brought you up and cared for you since you were just a wriggler. You are very grateful that he took you in, given the circumstances. Even if he can be a little… _crabby_ sometimes. You would hate to have woken up from that vivid nightmare alone. You remember the red blood that painted the stone in your dream and shudder. Why did you get the feeling that your own life was about to end when that arrow flew? Something about the scene felt so real. It couldn't just be the color of that crimson blood, so similar to your own. There was something more ominous about the scene that you couldn't quite place. Oh well, it was just a dream. You think you should probably try to forget about it. You have more important things to deal with.

After all, the Reaping is today.

You feel a bit nervous, having entered your name into the lottery more times that you entirely felt comfortable with. You did what you had to do to keep yourself and your lusus from going hungry, though. No use regretting it now. Hell, even if you do get picked and die in the Games, at least it would be faster than starving to death. All you can really do at this point is get dressed in your special suit, go out to the town square with everyone else, and hope for the best.

You want to get some fresh air first, though. You throw on some clothes and slip out the door before your lusus can catch you. He doesn't really approve of your trips outside the District, but you don't care. You have to take a breather before the big moment. You know it probably won't be you whose name is drawn, but you can never be sure. A walk in the woods always helps calm your nerves.

You duck under a broken segment of fence and head to the log where you stash your weapons. Rolling it over, you withdraw two sharp sickles. Their grips feel familiar and comforting in your calloused hands. After putting the log back, you go through one of your practice drills, then another. Every troll has to be able to fight, although you are a bit more enthusiastic about it than most. The two curved blades whirl around you in a steady rhythm that you have practiced many times before. Your nerves start to ease up a bit. Hell, if you do end up in the Games, your opponents had better watch out, you think.

You are feeling pretty proud of yourself - until you accidentally hit your arm with one of the sickles by accident. Ouch! You sit down and examine the cut while uttering a long stream of profanities. The wound isn't deep, but your candy red blood reminds you of your nightmare. Shit, so much for calming down, you think. Gotta find something to wrap this up with. Can't have the whole world knowing you're a mutant. You carefully cut off a bit of your shirt and tie it around the wound. There. Much better.

As you sit there staring at the ground and feeling sorry for yourself, you spot something glinting silver from underneath the layer of dead leaves covering the forest floor. Curious, you sift through the leaves and pick it up. It seems to be some sort of silver chain, maybe a necklace of some sort. Dangling at the end of it, you see…

Oh hell no.

It's the handcuffs from your dream.

You have had so many of these goddamn nightmares. Every time, no matter what shitty thing happens, the red-blooded troll always shows up. And without fail, he always has this same symbol. Sometimes it's on his cloak. Other times it shows up on the cover of a book that his catgirl companion is carrying. Heck, you adopted it as your sign before you even started having these dreams. You're not sure why it bothers you so much, but finding a symbol from your nightmares on the day of the Reaping just seems like a bad omen.

You stare at the dangling charm. You're probably just being a wuss, you decide. You were never really that superstitious. It's just a goddamn necklace. Probably worth something, too. You could probably make a decent sum off it if you sold it on the black market. Looks like it's made of real silver, given that it hasn't rusted yet. No reason to freak out. Bad omen, your ass. You might as well say it belonged to your ancestor and you were magically fated to find it. What a load of BS. You put the necklace in your pocket and head for home.


	2. Chapter 2

So you're wearing your fancy suit, sitting in the town square. And sweating. Big deal. It must be because it's hot. Yeah, that's definitely it.

You dig your hands into your pockets. You feel the cold metal of the necklace you found, the one belonging to your nightmare troll. Why the hell did you even bring it to the Reaping? You don't really know. It was probably a fucking stupid thing to do. Bad omen and all. Not that you believe in that sort of thing.

Why didn't you sell it? Well... um, you figured you would wait until after the Reaping was over. Really, though, you have no idea why you would do such a dumb thing. You need the money now, before you get your tesserae. You guess you might as well keep it with you now that you've brought it. What are you going to do, throw it on the ground?

You have more important things to worry about than a stupid necklace, anyway. Like how you're actually more likely to be chosen this year. It's the Quarter Quell, the 75th Hunger Games. This year, both tributes can be of any gender, there isn't a male and a female. And... one of them has to be 13 years old or under. That makes you more likely to get chosen. Add the fact that you took out tesserae, and you might actually be looking at your death sentence right now. Holy shit.

A woman dressed in bright purple with a crazy hat steps up to the microphone. She must be from the Capitol, you think. Nobody else could possibly have style that ridiculous. There's a feedback noise, and then she says, "Alright. Everybody ready for the Reaping this year?" There is a half-hearted cheer from the crowd. Nobody wants to be Reaped or wants their friends and family to be Reaped. Duh. You don't even join in the cheer, because fuck it, you are NOT ready for the Reaping this year.

"OK, moving on," says the lady, in a slightly disappointed voice. "Let us begin." She puts two glass bowls full of names on two stools, and gestures to them proudly. "This year, any combination of genders can be picked, and here's the kicker: one of the tributes has to be under 13!"

Yeah, we already knew that, smartass. Now just get it over with.

"In one of these bowls," she continues brightly, "are the names of all the younger children. In the other, every name is entered. In the unlikely event that we pick a name twice, we'll just pick again. Here we go," she says, reaching into a bowl.

"Aradia Megido!" A pale, ghostly-looking troll girl with black hair walks up to the stage without a sound. She's kind of creepy, and you hope the odds are in fact in your favor and you won't be her district partner. You grasp the necklace in your pocket as you wait for the second name to be called...

"Karkat Vantas!"

Your hands start to shake. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath. When you aren't having nightmares about the red-blooded troll, your nightmares are about this exact moment. Please let it be a dream, please let it be a dream...

You pinch yourself. It is not a dream.


End file.
